


Very Superstitious

by KBZ



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: (AKA Horror Tropes But Dialed Down), Alternate Universe, Bad Flirting, Character death is not Sena, Crack, Hauntings, Humor, M/M, Supernatural Elements, horror-lite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBZ/pseuds/KBZ
Summary: Sena moves into his grandparent's old house, but weird things start happening, so he calls in an expert. Featuring: ManyxSena, eccentric old ladies, and good old fashioned ghost busting.
Relationships: Akaba Hayato/Kobayakawa Sena, Kakei Shun/Kobayakawa Sena, Kobayakawa Sena/Shin Seijuurou, Kobayakawa Sena/Yamato Takeru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning this up from ff while I procrastinate on EKC lol. as usual .-. This fic is already finished on ff if you want the whole thing, but will be updated here weekly while I go through the chaps and give them some editing.

_Sena’s grandmother had peculiar tastes (to say the least). She’d offer gelatinous eyeball candies, cookie milk-bones, and red, viscous punch in the heads of skulls whenever Sena and his parents visited. Her curtains and bed spreads were black and gothic—lace upon lace with ghoulish designs that matched her dresses. She had red lightbulbs that cast every shadow into something sinister._

_His mother, Mihae, said she was a bit eccentric, but seemed completely unbothered by the atmosphere, having grown up in it after all. His father, Shuumei, enjoyed being away from the office and usually took Sena’s grandfather out fishing. They, too, seemed unbothered._

_Sena, a timid child, almost always fainted during the visits, but loved his grandmother regardless. The candies were good, the bone cookies were homemade, as was the fruit punch. He’d helped press beats, blackberries, and cherries to make the drink on numerous occasions._

_He always knew his grandmother’s house was haunted—just one of those things you accept in life, like the sun, or having parents—though he could never quite prove it. Whenever he’d ask where the ghosts were, his grandmother would just reply, “Sena, here I thought you wanted your grandfather and me around a bit longer!” and wink._

“Sena,” his mother’s voice was faint and crackly, but her exhaustion was clear even through the static. “Just… just hang tight while we figure out what to do with the house.”

“Alright, alright,” Sena said, shouldering his phone to heft another box. He locked the car and trudged up the creaking steps to the house’s entrance. “I have to go now, see you soon.”

“Love you,” his mother and father chorused.

“Love you guys, bye.” Sena rested the boxes on the patio and sighed.

His grandfather had passed years ago—heart attack while fishing—but his grandmother had only recently died. The loneliness had finally gotten to her. The house stood by itself for three months while the Kobayakawa family grieved. Three months too long, his grandmother would have said. She died peacefully, happy to join the love of her life. In her will, she insisted they hold a party instead of a traditional funeral. (Also, she wanted to be cremated. And for her ashes to be blasted out of a confetti canon during said party. Needless to say that didn’t happen.)

But, the time had come for things to be taken care of. His main concern was to get the house back to livable conditions while his parents handled the paperwork. Brush away the cobwebs, sort what was left of his grandparent’s belongings, do basic maintenance. Tidy up the lives of some of his most precious people. It was the summer before the last year of his studies, so he had the time.

Sena slapped his cheeks to wake himself up. Can’t get too gloomy, he thought to himself. It was almost nighttime, and he wanted to switch out the creepy red lightbulbs for regular ones before it got too dark.

The house sat out far from beyond the outermost dredges of civilization. The nearest commercial center was almost two hours away, the nearest hospital more than three.

On either side of the house were two trees, leafless and black with gnarled branches that looked like grasping fingers. The wood—all of it—creaked terribly, especially at night when the house settled. The hallways meandered about like a maze and often led to bricked-over dead ends. Some doors were permanently sealed, the locks welded shut. There was no getting bearings in the house. (Sena had gotten lost in it often as a child.)

The most off-putting thing was the silence, however. A lonely dirt main road, barely two lanes, ran past the house. There might be a car on that road once a day, but nothing else. There was wind, the trees scratching against the windows, or the odd bird chirping, but there was an eerie silence that was almost deafening.

It had always unnerved Sena. But for the foreseeable future, Sena would have to call it home.

The electricity and water had all been turned on a few days before Sena arrived, and for that he was grateful. Still, switching on the lights when you had black and red lightbulbs didn’t really do much to lessen the creepy atmosphere. He switched out the haunted-house bulbs for warm-hued counterparts and replaced the black, lacy décor with cheery cream colors.

The guest room he used to spend nights in was upstairs. He headed up to reclaim it, giving everything a quick dust on his way. In his other hand, he held a bucket full of cleaning supplies to tackle the bathroom at the end of the hall.

When Sena was younger, he had never gone to the bathroom during the night. His grandmother had purposefully made it so that the light by that particular hallway _always_ flickered sinisterly. But, thinking back on it now, Sena could see that there wasn’t truly anything ominous about the bathroom since the whole scary façade was simply that—a show his grandmother put on because it was fun.

It was _just_ a bathroom. Down a long, creaky corridor. In an abandoned house. In the middle of nowhere…

Sena switched on the hall light. The bulb flickered, barely shedding light before going out with a fizzle and starting the whole process over.

The same fear sunk into Sena. He felt like he was a little kid again, unable to even dare look at the bathroom door. But it also made Sena think of his grandparents and the fondness warmed his heart and gave him courage to screw in a regular lightbulb for a constant stream of bright light.

“Much better,” Sena said, gaining resolve. He marched down the hall, flicked on the bathroom light and got to work.

Within twenty minutes, most of the bathroom was sparkling clean and smelling like lemons. All that was left was to clean the leaking, claw-footed tub. A puddle had steadily formed in the few days the water had been turned back on. There was a water stain in the tub, but it seemed to have already been there.

That made Sena pause.

It made sense that house was in such disrepair now that he thought about it. Nothing was so bad as to be dangerous. But there were leaks. There were cobwebs (real ones) and dingy windows and rust stains—all little signs of the ailing health of his grandmother and her inability to take care of her eccentric home.

The pipes rattled, as Sena rinsed the tub once again. When he closed the tap, the drain groaned, and the suction noise it made as the water flowed away was deafening.

There was also another thing. He’d never noticed it before when he was little. But now, without his grandparents, he felt the immeasurable loneliness and silence that had accompanied his grandmother until she’d made her final trip to the hospital.

A little bit of water dribbled from the tub faucet even after Sena closed it tight.

_(Drip drip drip drip drip…)_

Sena started wiping down the mirrors, clearing the condensation. The lightbulbs flickered briefly, and Sena looked up curiously. When he looked back down, there was someone behind him in the mirror.

Sena turned around, gasping—but there was nothing. Just the door open, showing the shadowed hallway. He cleaned the bathroom counter hurriedly, the image burned in his mind despite his best efforts to ignore it.

A tall person with dark hair. Male. He’d been standing close, less than an arm’s distance, only a foot away at most, and Sena had seen his face in the mirror. There were two shadows where their eyes should have been, as if they’d been gouged out.

_(Dripdripdripdripdrip…)_

He turned around again, slowly.

(The tub was almost half-full, he noticed. He’d have to fix the leak, he thought distantly.)

Just and empty hallway again. Right, right. The light and shadows were weird, they—they might have even been what his sleep-deprived brain saw. But, just in case, he thought. He made to close the door.

Sena hopped off his stool, not noticing the puddles on the ground, and slipped.

“What—?” Sena flailed, trying to find purchase and failing. He fell into the bathtub with a splash. His cheek grazed the faucet’s edge. Hot pain pulsed through his face where the metal scraped away skin. Sena sputtered and groaned, clutching at his cheeks. A thin rivet of blood fell down his cheek.

A drop of blood landed in the water.

The bath drain made another deafening suction noise as all the water was siphoned away. A deeper, more echoey sound punctuated the end, as if the noise had been moaning in the labyrinth of pipes before reaching his ears.

It was pitch black outside, hot and humid with the occasional gust of wind that rattled the entire house. The radio was illuminated from behind by a brilliant light bulb as it perched on the edge of the kitchen counter.

_“Good evening, nightowls,”_ the radio broadcaster announced, her voice mellow. It was close to two in the morning.

Sena slurped his instant ramen, listening intently despite his sleepiness. He sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing pajama pants. Half opened boxes and trash bags surrounded him.

The radio was the only thing that got decent reception, and Sena was dying for entertainment. He hadn’t been up to the restroom all day. He’d spent the rest of the day cleaning and avoiding thinking about what he thought he saw in the mirror. He needed a distraction.

_“I’m sure we’ve all had an eventful day. So take this time to relax…”_ the woman said.

You’ve got that right, Sena thought as his cheek started throbbing again.

_“But try to put your mind at ease.”_ The woman’s voice had dropped in pitch and gotten fainter, as if she was slipping down a tunnel or a well. _“C-c-c… alm your breathing… calm your heart… heart…”_

Sena stilled, eyes darting to the radio. It was still the woman’s voice, but it was distorted and warbled, like she was talking through water.

He got up and messed with the dial. Before he could even touch it, the woman started again, her voice so loud that Sena flinched.

She was shouting now, her voice so deep and twisted that she was barely recognizable. An image of the woman with her throat slashed open, gushing blood with every gargled attempt to speak, flashed into his mind.

Sena stumbled for the extension cord and unplugged it.

Silence filled the room.

He felt nauseous. His mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be. He plugged the radio back in.

_“Calm your heart,”_ this time the voice was male, deep, mellifluous, the perfect voice for late night radio. _“Take a deep breath… fuu… deep breath… fuu… are you listening to me, nightowl?”_

Sena felt himself calming. He must have been sleepier than he thought if he imagined such a terrible thing moments earlier. He was too keyed up by this whole situation.

He breathed in.

_“That’s right… listen to me. Listen to my voice. Ignore what was troubling you before…”_

Sena started washing up, listening to that hypnotic voice.

_“Say it was your imagination…”_

He turned off the faucet and started putting away his dishes.

_“I said, say it was your imagination. Say it_ now. _”_

Sena clutched the plate. He felt the unnerving feeling that he was being spoken to directly. “It… it was my imagination.”

_“Good, good. With that we’ll conclude today’s broadcast early. Try and sleep, nightowl, you will need it.”_ The radio hissed into static. Sena scrambled for the radio and unplugged it and took out the batteries for good measure.

Sena entered his old bedroom. With a shake of his head, Sena dismissed whatever he’d seen earlier in the bathroom as a trick of the light and not getting enough sleep.

And the radio thing? Probably satellite interference and an active imagination.

Sena’s heart thumped in his chest.

Right.

“Stupid, dumb brain.” He pulled his pants off and shrugged on a comfortable sweatshirt. Sena stretched out on the bed. The late night was starting to catch up to him.

Sena stretched again. He pulled the comforter tight against him, like a teddy bear, and rolled on his side.

Behind him, unseen, the closet door cracked open.

A golden eye came into view between the door and the frame. There was no pupil, just a bright gold iris surrounded by a black sclera. The color was like a writhing disease and infection. The eye focused intently on Sena’s back.

_Need to call mom and dad,_ Sena thought, making a mental list. He curled the blanket around him tighter. He could see his breath. _Make sure Pitt’s okay, too._ _Call the plumber or maybe my parents will know how to fix it. Call about the busted AC, too, it’s freezing._

At his back, the eye disappeared.

A shadow twitched from underneath the closet door, twisting and churning, before jerking up and taking form. The bright, shining eyes were back. Moonlight reflected off its wide, glistening smile. It had human-looking teeth that were almost too perfect and almost too many.

It stepped towards Sena, taking exaggeratedly slow steps. Whenever Sena would move, it completely froze until Sena stilled again.

It was at the edge of the bed. Its smile got even wider. It crouched right behind Sena’s sleeping form, not breathing, not blinking, its bright teeth inches from Sena’s smooth neck.

They stayed like that for almost two hours.

Eventually, Sena turned around, and blinked his groggy eyes open, some instinct telling him something wasn’t right.

“I may not be a skeleton in your closet, but I can give you a bone,” the monster winked at Sena.

Sena’s mind was a blurry mess as he started to wake up. He heard the shower running down the hall. Had he forgotten to turn it off…?

Images came floating back. The thing in the shower, the smiling thing with all the teeth, the voice on the radio… A nightmare then?

“I can’t believe you said that,” a deep, echoey voice hissed.

_“You really laid it on thick.”_ This voice seemed to crackle and fade in and out. It sounded like it was talking through a phone. _“It was tasteless.”_

“Whatever,” another voice said, its teeth clicked, “Just wait, he’s going to be running into my arms.”

Sena groaned.

“Hm, he’s waking up now.”

“Yeah, I can _see_ that, asshole.”

_“Fu… you need to stop this childish quarreling or—”_

Sena blinked. Above him was the man with the unnaturally wide smile and the one from the bath. Sena blinked again and reached for his phone. It was flipped open, a call having been going on for almost forty minutes.

“Hey,” one of the men said, smile spreading so far across his face it had to hurt. His golden eyes peered down at Sena. Sena took in a sharp breath.

“Don’t scream!” The other held up its hand, seemingly trying to calm Sena. His skin was a pale blue, like he’d drowned; his ears were pointed. He had no eyes, just empty black eye sockets that stared down at Sena. And he was naked and dripping water.

“Yeah, save that voice up,” golden eyes said as he laid next to Sena on the bed, “you’ll be screaming my name later.”

_“Don’t pay attention to him, he uses the wrong head to think.”_ It was the same male voice from the radio broadcast earlier.

“Both of them are idiots. Ignore them.” The naked guy took in a breath. “Go out with me.”

“What? No, you don’t want him, you—!”

_“I may just be a disembodied voice, but this voice can bring you the greatest pleasure. Two words: audio orgasm-”_

Sena slammed his elbow into the smiling man’s throat. He ignored how cold the monster’s skin was in favor for slamming his fist into its nose. The smiling man choked, caught off guard.

“That’s the right response. Wait, what are you—?” The drowned monster was cut off as Sena jumped off the bed and tackled its legs. The drowned man tried getting Sena off of it, but Sena threw the sheets over its body. It clung to the monster, delaying it long enough for Sena to scramble to his luggage. The smiling thing was still retching and clutching at its nose.

Sena’s heart was pounding. He unzipped suitcases. He threw clothes everywhere.

_“What are you doing? What’s happening?”_

Sena held up a mechanical lighter in his shaking hands. He flicked it on and lit one of his cotton shirts on fire. Sena threw it towards the foot of the bed and ran out of the room. He stumbled down the stairs, still running and panting.

The smiling monster was waiting for him at the front door, black liquid seeping from its fingers where it cradled its nose.

“What was all that about?” The smiling monster wiped his hand on his jacket. His nose had healed already.

Sena’s body was wound tight with adrenaline and terror. For himself, but also for his grandparents. “D-Did you... my grandmother… did you kill her?”

The radio crackled to life in the kitchen. _“What.”_

“You weren’t here b-before,” Sena said, eyes burning. “When I was little, s-so did, did you…?”

“You’re the first human we’ve seen since we got here,” said the smiling man.

Sena paused. “Why should I believe you?”

“It’s the truth,” the drowned monster yelled from upstairs.

_“Fuu… we only started haunting here about three months ago.”_

“Yeah, before that there was this other guy, wouldn’t let us near here. Or anyone for that matter.”

Sena’s mind raced. He was surely going crazy, but in case he wasn’t, he needed to clear a few things up. “What did the other, um, the other… thing look like?” Sena was still trembling.

“Old man, fishing hat. He was a ghost,” the drowned monster said.

“That’s right, he had this weird tackle clipped to the hat, looked like a—”

“A shrunken head?”

The smiling monster grinned, flashing its teeth. “Yeah, you know him?”

Sena sat back on the steps and looked down at his lap, sagging with relief. His hands caught his tears at the thought of his grandfather keeping his grandmother company. His grandmother must have been thrilled, seeing the love of her life in occult form.

He was broken out of his trance when the stairs started flooding. The drowned man was walking down. That’s when Sena realized that he had never turned off the running tap.

And that the guy was still naked.

It turned out Sena had roommates.

The voice on the radio was named Akaba. There was no escaping him. Radio was his preferred method of communication, but he’d taken over his phone, walkie-talkies, and a really creepy automated harlequin doll once.

He’d wake Sena up in the morning with soft acoustic guitar, and although he couldn’t see Sena, he could just tell that Sena looked _“as fair and golden as the dulcet tones that I play.”_

“No offense, Akaba, but what does that mean?” Sena would ask, red-faced.

The drowned man was some sort of malign water spirit named Kakei. He could only be near water with high enough concentrations of some sort of metal, apparently.

He also liked to sneak in the tub when Sena was bathing. Sena’d close his eyes to rinse shampoo out of his hair, and then there would be Kakei, muscular and wet and _also naked._

After the second time it’d happened, Sena had handed over his largest pair of shorts.

“I like the feeling of you against me,” Kakei had frowned.

Kakei was blunt, much to Sena’s stuttering chagrin.

“You look great like this,” Takeru said. He was the smiling man. He lurked in Sena’s closet and underneath his bed. He had some sort of control over shadows.

“Takeru, I’m naked, can you _please_?” Takeru especially liked using that trick to lock Sena’s closet door so he couldn’t get dressed. He also liked to sneak into Sena’s bed.

“Well, since you begged so nicely… give me a kiss and I can guarantee that I’ll open the door.”

“Takeru!”

He was also a bit of an asshole.

Sena fiddled with the paper menu at the local (hour drive away) diner.

It had only been three days since discovering his… roommates, and Sena was at his wit’s end. He felt embarrassed and guilty. He actually did like Takeru, Kakei, and Akaba, despite their… quirks. But their flirting was out of control. So, he’d called in a supernatural expert.

“Sena Kobayakawa?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s me.” Sena stood up and shook the man’s hand. He was tall and well built. His voice was deep. Sena felt his heart start to beat faster. That… was unexpected.

“I’m Seijuro Shin. You said that you needed my help?” He sat across from Sena and fixed him with a dark gaze. Sena’s face felt warm.

“Um, yeah. I…” Sena blinked, his head fuzzy. What was the best way to say that his house was haunted with beings that all wanted to be his boyfriend?


	2. Chapter 2

“Um… hello…” Sena cupped his drink close to his body. Seijuro sat across from him in the booth. “Sorry, you don’t seem the type to be a…” Sena motioned with his hands, searching for the right words.

“Paranormal investigator,” Seijuro supplied. He was cutting up everything on his plate precisely – sausage, eggs, whole-wheat unbuttered toast. When he’d sat down, he’d laid on the table: a pager, a briefcase, and a notepad. Despite the summer heat, he was wearing a suit with a perfectly knotted tie and a pressed white shirt. His haircut was exact, his gaze severe.

“Ah, right. Paranormal investigator.” Sena had already explained (most) his situation over the phone a few days prior, leaving out the embarrassing bits. “Uh, so, what do you suggest?”

“The smiling man-”

“Takeru.”

“Takeru, right, well he can be driven out with some holy items.” Seijuro reviewed his notes. “There’s a wide range to choose. He’s a common demon type. It should be fairly straight forward. As for the water spirit—Kakei, was it? It should also be simple in repelling him. Entities with bodies have weaknesses. That is just a natural property of having a corporal expression,” Shin was cutting up a sugar cube to add into his coffee.

“And Akaba?”

“His description gave me the most pause. Can I hear that recording you brought?”

Sena looked out the diner’s window while the tinny recording sounded, trying to hide his embarrassment by examining the approaching storm clouds. “ _Good morning, dearest. Listen as I softly serenade you. Wake up to the sound of my voice, sweet one._ ”

“He seems rather fond of you,” Seijuro noted.

“Unfortunately,” Sena said glumly to his eggs.

“Are you sure you want to get rid of these entities?” Seijuro seemed almost too interested in Sena’s answer. He was leaning forward, eyes even more intense. Sena sweated under the scrutiny.

“I’m sure, they’re not the kind of people… _beings_ … that I want that attention from.”

“Who do you want. Attention from.”

Sena blinked at Seijuro’s curious punctuation. “Well, a human would be nice.”

Seijuro nodded. “Good.”

“What does that have to do with investigating this?”

“It doesn’t.” Seijuro dug into his briefcase and extracted a jar full of coarse, multi-colored granules. An herbal smell emanated from the jar. “My research suggests that you summoned the water sprite.” Before Sena could react, Seijuro took Sena’s face in both hands and tilted it to the side, getting a better look at where Sena had bandaged his cheek. Seijuro’s thumb ghosted over the injury, and Sena shuddered despite the light touch. “It seems like you performed an inadvertent blood summoning.”

Seijuro let go of Sena’s face, and Sena realized he’d stopped breathing. He reached up to touch the bandage, heart racing, skin burning at the contact. “Well… that doesn’t sound good.”

“The only way to undo blood magic is by blood magic. Take two handfuls of this mineral salt and dissolve it in boiling water. Add two drops of blood. Then just pour the mixture down every drain in your house.”

“ _Every_ drain?”

“If you want the water sprite completely gone, then yes, every drain.”

“I see… And for Takeru?”

Seijuro dug into his bag again, and produced a bundle of herbs tied together with twine and a black box. From the black box, Seijuro took out a single, golden match.

“Strike the match at your house’s front door and light these herbs there, too. Then brush the top of every door frame with its ashes.”

“ _Every_ door frame?”

“In order to rid your home of the smiling man, then yes, every door frame.”

“And Akaba? I’m guessing do something to every speaker in the house,” Sena tried to joke, but quickly stopped laughing as thunder cracked like a splitting drum outside. Dark and roiling thunderheads had completely engulfed the sky, and with that one crack of thunder, a downpour rained down.

“My research suggests something more serious,” Seijuro said, drawing Sena’s attention. From his briefcase, he took out a small container of gasoline. “Will you accompany me to perform some exorcisms?”

Sena decided to exorcise Kakei first. He was the most understanding and probably would take this whole the thing in stride.

“He’s polite,” Sena told Seijuro as they hurriedly made their way up the dirt path to the house. The rain hadn’t stopped, and they shared an umbrella, Sena crowded close to Seijuro’s side. “Uh, the most polite at least…”

While Sena filled a copper pot with water (he refused to use the black cauldron hanging above the fireplace that his grandmother had loved to cook with), Seijuro inspected the room with a blinking device. It beeped every once in a while which made Seijuro’s furrowed eyebrows furrow even more. Sena held the mineral salt in his hands anxiously as he waited for the water to boil.

Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with a frenzied beeping. Next to Sena, the faucet opened up, and Kakei materialized on the linoleum in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Kakei asked. One hand was in the sink. (Sena was pleased to note that Kakei was following the “minimal water waste” rule. The water meter was already incredibly high for a single occupant household.)

“Um,” Sena said. “I’ve, um, been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“What? Is it because I’m not wearing the swim trunks? They’re _uncomfortable_. And I am using less water like you asked.”

“What? Oh, my God you _are_ naked.” Sena busied himself with pricking his finger and adding two drops of his blood into the water and ignoring the once again nude Kakei.

Seijuro tossed his briefcase aside. “So you’re the malignant water spirit.” He was loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves.

“Who is this?” Kakei turned to face Seijuro. His free hand was growing talons.

“He’s… we need to talk about a lot of things. You see…” Sena dumped the mineral salts into the boiling water. The water turned black, then blue, and finally settled on a sea green color.

“You want me to leave?” Kakei bared his fangs at Seijuro; Seijuro flexed his fists.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s just not working out right between us,” Sena took the pot off the boiler. He took a deep breath and poured some of the mixture down the drain. Kakei hissed, and melted away, leaving just a puddle.

“Now on to the rest of the house,” Seijuro said, no less relaxed.

The last drain was the bathtub in the hallway where it all started. Kakei was waiting for them. Still naked.

He asked: “Can I have a moment to say goodbye?”

Sena nodded. “Okay.”

When Seijuro didn’t move, Kakei added: “ _Privately_.”

“Be alert,” Seijuro said as he closed the door behind him.

Sena set the copper pot on the counter. He was trying to make eye contact (since he didn’t want to risk looking anywhere else) but it was hard when the other person didn’t have eyes…

“Anyway…” Sena cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I… understand.” Kakei crossed his arms.

“What… what’s gonna happen when I finish the ritual?”

“I’ll go back to where I came from. It’s not so bad. Some annoying people, your grandmother notwithstanding.”

“You know her?”

Kakei pursed his lips, petulant. His cheeks turned a darker shade of blue. “She was the one that’d suggested I meet you. She thought we’d be… _a striking couple._ So much for that.”

“My grandmother had lots of ideas…”

“She told me she could never predict what you liked.” Kakei jerked his to the door, where Seijuro was waiting. “As long as it’s not that Yamato fucker.”

After a beat, Sena picked up the copper pot once again. “Goodbye, Kakei,” Sena said softly, and poured the last bit of the mixture down the bathtub drain. Kakei waived. He melted away, and everything swirled down the drain with a hollow echo that reverberated through Sena’s bones. And that was it for Kakei.

Seijuro entered the bathroom again and scanned the room with that same beeping device; judging from the lack of eyebrow action, it was the good kind of beeping. Seijuro approached Sena and took his hand and then wrapped a small bandage around his finger.

“We don’t want another accidental summoning pact,” Seijuro said. The bandaid had cartoon footballs on it. Sena wanted Seijuro to kiss it better, but decided to keep that thought to himself.

It wasn’t long before Sena’s other… guests… noticed the departure of Kakei. Akaba kept jumping from speaker to speaker until he decided to hit the pair with equally jarring radio silence.

The house lights flickered before turning off completely. Sena felt Seijuro crowd close to him and tense up.

“Ah, don’t worry,” Sena whispered, trying to ease the tension from Seijuro, “he does this a lot.”

The lights turned back on, and Takeru was standing in front of them, dark shadows flaring around him. His wide, toothy smile was present but looking more menacing than ever before as he took in Seijuro’s protective stance over Sena. The black shadows boiled at the sight.

“So.” Takeru snapped his eyes to Sena. “Heard you kicked Kakei out. Does this mean you’re gonna take me up on that date offer?”

Sena shuffled nervously. “Takeru… we know this has been coming for a while now…”

“I could make you come for a while,” Takeru winked.

“I can see why you want him removed,” Seijuro said. He stepped in front of Sena, muscles twitching.

“Let’s… let’s not do anything hasty,” Sena popped his head from around Seijuro’s frame. “I just need some space, Takeru.”

Takeru pouted. “I promise you’re making a mistake, Sena.”

Sena rolled his eyes and headed to the entrance. Takeru followed him, a cloud of shadows roiling around his feet.

“Seriously Sena? I’ll change, I swear,” Takeru said as Sena lit the bundle of herbs with the golden match. “I’ll stop locking you out of your closet when you’re trying to change.” Sena pressed the ashes against the main door’s frame. “I’ll stop getting into bed with you.” (Seijuro appeared from around the corner, glaring.)

At the last door, Sena’s childhood room, Takeru finally sounded desperate. “Look, wait, I’m sorry… It’s just, your grandmother said we might get along.”

“My grandmother told you that?”

“She hates being wrong, so let’s prove her right.”

“I…” Seijuro was waiting out in the hallway again, and Sena’s mind kept circling back to him. “I think we need to take different parts.”

“Damn. I hate being wrong.” Takeru ran a hand through his hair. For the first time, he wasn’t smiling. “Well, she was right about one thing… you sure are fucking cute.” Takuru bent low and kissed Sena, quickly brushing his cold lips against Sena’s uninjured cheek. “One last parting gift.”

“You’re always pushing the line,” Sena mumbled, red faced. “Bye Takeru.”

“I’ll wait for you, Sena. I’ll tell your grandma hi,” Takeru said as Sena brushed the ashes against the door frame. Takeru faded into the shadows, his wide, white smile the last thing visible before it, too, faded into the darkness.

In the headlights of Seijuro’s car, with only a rusted, broken gate as a guard, was a decrepit radio tower. The heavy rain pelted against the steel lattice work and the chain-link fence. Inside the car, with the radio tuned to a smooth jazz station, Seijuro was guiding Sena through a complicated web of newspaper clippings and notes.

“The voice sounded familiar,” Seijuro said, uncapping a thermos of hot tea. “There was a radio host that disappeared almost ten years ago from Tokyo; he was fairly well known, but never showed up to work one night. Would you like to guess his name?”

“Akaba.”

“Correct. There was an intensive search, but only his car was found, miles away from his destination, and after the designated time passed, he was declared dead. There weren’t any suspects, but without a body or murder weapon, nothing could have been proven anyway. I followed the investigation in my earlier days and had my own suspicions.”

“Are we going to… exorcise him? Here?”

“Yes. The best method is closure.”

“What about the gasoline?”

“In my days on the field, I’ve found it’s best to err on the side of caution.”

Sena sipped on his drink, steeling his nerves for what was to come. The lack of contact from Akaba’s part concerned him. He was usually fairly talkative, which now, in hindsight, made sense. But the entire scenario disturbed Sena deeply. He held the newspaper clippings in his hands, reading over and over the shocked headlines about Akaba’s disappearance and presumed death. This wasn’t like the other two scenarios with Takeru and Kakei who had _always_ been some supernatural entity. Akaba had been a person; he had been admired and successful, and then he had been murdered.

The car radio crackled, the music becoming distorted. Seijuro didn’t notice as he double checked their supplies.

“ _Don’t do this, Sena.”_

“Are you ready?” Seijuro pulled his raincoat on, umbrella in hand.

Sena blinked, a little unsteady. “S-sure.”

The first step they took inside the radio tower, Sena fell crashed the rotting wooden floors.

“Are you alright?” Seijuro’s panicked voice carried down. He turned on a flashlight and shined it to where Sena lay in a crumpled heap over some moldering pallets. The fall was much higher than Sena thought.

“I think... hah…” Sena tried to regain his breathing under control. One of his ankles was burning. He tried flexing it and winced. “Ah… I think I hurt my ankle.”

“Stay where you are, I’m going to find some stairs.” Seijuro sounded frustrated, his eyebrows furrowed like never before. “I’ll be right down.”

Sena closed his eyes and leaned back against the boxes that had cushioned his fall. A lot more of his body was hurting, so he focused on following Seijuro’s footsteps instead until they faded away from his hearing range.

“ _He’s concerned for you,_ ” Akaba’s voice crackled from Sena’s pocket. “ _Very touching._ ”

Sena kept his focus on his pained breathing. “It’s… ah… good to hear from you.”

“ _Fuu_ … _You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me._ ”

“Akaba… Akaba, I’m sorry. For what happened to you.”

“ _Don’t make me leave… There’s nothing afterwards._ ”

“W… what?” Sena clenched his eyes and forced himself to sit up. He flipped open his phone and turned on the flashlight, looking around.

“ _Just radio silence. I was here for a long time. By myself._ ” Aside from several storage boxes and old equipment, there was an exit, one of the doors unhinged and showing a pitch black space.

“Kakei and Takeru told me about… ah… moving on. That’s… ngh… that’s where they met my grandmother… And she’s with my grandfather.”

“ _You don’t understand. I don’t remember what happened before this. There was nothing except for this place, and then there was you.”_

“No, Akaba,” Sena rubbed at his eyes weakly. “You need to move on.”

“ _Being here wouldn’t be so bad if you were with me. Will you keep me company?_ ”

Sena’s body felt compelled to move. It was always a bad idea to split up from the group, especially concerning their situation. But Akaba’s voice was beckoning. Sena rolled shakily to his feet, favoring his right foot, and limped to the door.

“ _Take a left.”_

_“Down the hallway.”_

_“Second door on the right. Open it.”_

_“Walk all the way to the back wall.”_

_“Touch the circuits.”_

“What?” Sena eyes snapped into focus. He found his outreached hand inches away from exposed circuitries, fingers trembling.

“ _We get along very well, don’t you think?”_

Sena fought to pull his hand away. He took out the newspaper clipping with shaking hands, gasping at the concentration it took to resist Akaba’s voice. “You had an… an important interview the next day… and your fans were looking forward to it… Something happened. Y-You were killed…”

Sena’s phone crackled softly as Akaba listened. Sena felt sweat bead on his forehead. Something caught his eye in the corner. Part of the roof had caved in.

“What…” Sena gasped again. He suspected his ribs hadn’t remained intact after the fall. “What happened that night?”

“ _It was raining…”_ Akaba said slowly. Realization colored his words, made his speech slower. Akaba’s voice was being overwhelmed with interference, his volume increasing in order to be heard. “ _This building was abandoned even then. I was just passing through. The floors were weak.”_

The hairs on the back of Sena’s neck stood.

“I fell.” Akaba’s voice, clear as day behind Sena.

Sena had never seen a ghost before. It was unnerving. Akaba looked almost like a regular person but there was something just off about his movements to make him uncanny, like there was a missing frame in his motions. His hair was a shocking red, his eyes piercing.

“You’re lovely...” Akaba reached out with his fingers, but Sena felt nothing more than a cold chill on his cheek. “Don’t do this.”

“You have friends waiting for you on the other side.” Sena could feel more control seeping into his body. “You won’t be alone.”

Akaba let his cold caress remain against Sena cheek for a beat longer. He smiled, very slightly, before nodding. Sena blinked, and he was alone.

Akaba had fallen through shoddy ground, seeking shelter from a bad storm after his car had stopped working. There had been no wood pallets to cushion his fall, and he’d died in the dark. Sena wasn’t sure if that was much better than being murdered.

Seijuro joined Sena a bit later, concerned hands checking Sena’s injuries.

They gathered Akaba’s bones in a canvas bag and carefully made their way out of the tower, Seijuro carrying Sena. The rain had let up significantly when they emerge outside. It was barely drizzling.

Sena whispered goodbye as Seijuro poured gasoline over the canvas bag. And, as Sena dropped a golden match on top of it, he thought he may have heard Akaba’s voice, softly, say goodbye.

It was at the ER, while they waited on Sena’s X-ray results (and after numerous apologies over the whole thing), that Seijuro asked Sena out for a cup of coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chap 2 and 3 are best read together, hence double upload \o/

Seijuro twirled his pasta and cut the loose ends with a knife, then scooped up the bundle with his spoon, and ate it. The process took at least five seconds longer than strictly necessary, and the scraping sounds of cutlery were grating on Sena’s nerves. Sena tapped his fingers on the restaurant table.

It had been a week since the exorcisms had taken place. Sena had bruised ribs from the fall along with a sprained ankle and other minor cuts and bruises. He’d had to stop working on the house altogether since anything that got him out of breath sent pulsing hot pain throughout his chest. Just thinking about the house annoyed Sena. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he missed his… supernatural friends. The house felt different without them, less welcoming.

“… fine?” Seijuro asked, Sena only able to catch the tail end of his question. Seijuro was cutting up a slice of garlic bread into bite size pieces.

“Sorry, can you repeat yourself?” This whole evening had been cut into different activities: people watching at the park, feeding birds, dinner; Sena enjoyed none of them. He just had wanted to go home and get in bed and sleep.

(Seijuro had come over the following day after the exorcisms to help Sena with his injuries. Seijuro revealed his love of cats over the lunch he’d packed them. They talked for hours.)

“I asked if you were feeling fine. You seem out of sorts.” Seijuro spooned up another perfectly portioned piece of pasta. Sena’s eye twitched.

“Why… Why do you do that?”

“Pardon?”

“That. The cutting. Why? It’s annoying.” Sena leaned back against his chair, wincing as his ribs protested at the movement. Outside the window, the sun was setting, and Sena couldn’t wait to leave.

(They went on a coffee date two days later, and it had ended in a kiss on Sena’s front porch. His head had been spinning when he’d stepped inside.)

“It prevents me from over eating. I’m very careful about my diet.” Seijuro placed his knife and fork against the rim of his plate quietly. He looked down at his food, frowning.

“I don’t mean to be rude but… It’s annoying. You’re, um, too high strung.” Sena pulled some bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the table. He stood up carefully. “I think this was a bad idea. Um… the dates I mean. You’re… you’re an adult that never outgrew his weird phase… What kind of job is—is _paranormal investigator_?”

“I…” Seijuro wiped his hands on a napkin, eyebrows knitted together. “You are not acting like yourself.”

“I didn’t… really have fun today, um…” Sena blinked. Seijuro looked confused, at a loss for words for the first time since Sena had met him. Sena himself snapped back into the moment like a rubber band. Why had he…? He was dizzy. “Ahh… sorry. What I said… I don’t feel so good.” Sena limped out of the restaurant, one last glance back showed the hurt look Seijuro had as his gaze followed Sena out to his car.

On the car ride home, Sena barraged himself. Why had he said those things? Seijuro had some quirks, sure. It took a special kind of person to work in the supernatural. But Seijuro was also sweet and honest. It wasn’t like he was some fraud. He’d helped Sena.

Sena felt the pangs of an immense headache as he stepped through his house. He tossed his keys into the dish tray, but they clattered to ground.

Sena stared at where his keys were on the ground. He could have sworn that Seijuro had put that table on the _right_ side of the entrance when he’d been helping, and yet the table was now on the left side of the entrance.

Sena changed into his pajamas, closing the closet door to ignore the mess it held. He wet a rag and placed it on his forehead. Somehow, Sena’s room had become a disaster despite him being pretty organized in general. (There was a reason why his parents asked him to take care of his grandparent’s house after all.) He laid down, his head and chest and ankle throbbing. The dim twilight lighting was setting him on edge. He turned on his side, trying to get comfortable.

The open closet door greeted him.

“Oh, no,” Sena mumbled, throwing the wet rag on the ground. He limped to the closet. “I thought I told you to leave Takeru! Answer me!” Sena slammed the door closed. He flipped open his phone. “You too Akaba! Wherever you are!” Sena limped into the bathroom and yelled into the bathtub’s drain. “Are you in here, Kakei? Huh? I thought I told you guys to leave!”

This probably explained all his missing things and how his furniture seemed to be readjusted, and all the doors opening and the cold spots, and the weird groanings and creaking at night, and…

There was a knock from inside the walls. Sena jumped. His skin prickled with goosebumps.

A beat later, there was another knock, this time sounding from where the bathroom’s door was. Around Sena, black particles swirled in the air like dust or sand. He turned around, following a scattering of black dust. It led down the hallway… into his old room… to the closet door.

Sena stared at it in wait. Something knocked from the inside.

“Hahh…” A coarse voice whispered from beyond the door frame. “So lively… So much _energy_ … I think I’ll stay here…”

Sena gripped his phone to his throbbing chest. He backed away slowly, edging towards the room’s door, keeping an eye on the swirling black sand. The doorknob turned, and the closet door creaked open. It was dark, but Sena’s straining eyes were able to make out movement. From the blackness, a dark hand reached out. Its twitching fingers ended in points.

Sena ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He could hear the coarse sliding of that black sand as it spread its way closer to him. His head was pulsing in pain. He dialed Seijuro’s number with trembling fingers.

“Hello?” Seijuro’s voice sounded far away, but just at the sound, relief washed over Sena.

“Something’s in my house,” Sena whispered fervently.

“I’ll be there soon. Fifteen minutes.”

“How are you so close?”

“I may have already been on the way.” Seijuro sounded down right sheepish, and Sena might have blushed with pleasure if he hadn’t been so scared.

“Thank you—”

Sena didn’t get to finish his sentence as an avalanche of black dust burst past the door and flung him down the stairs.

Sena squirmed on the ground. His ribs were screaming in pain. All the air had been knocked out of him. His breath came in short, choppy breaths. When he opened his bleary eyes, black sand was trickling closer, and… something… was coming down the stairs.

Sena couldn’t… describe it. It felt wrong, some amorphous thing, darker than black and blending in with the dark sand that seemed to pour from it. This wasn’t like the other beings. Akaba, Takeru, and Kakei hadn’t had this ominous aura. There was something deeply unsettling about what he was looking at, something evil.

“Yes…” it hissed. “I think you will… serve me for a long time, indeed…”

Sena scrambled painfully to get up, grappling at the walls for leverage. A thin trickle of black dust snaked its way around Sena’s ankle. It was a burning cold heat in a vice grip, so tight that Sena feared he would hear the snap of bone soon.

He clawed at the wooden floor as the black sand dragged him across the ground and snapped him against the wall. Sena’s head cracked on impact and ringing filled his ears. His vision swam. More black dust was curling its way towards his prone body; the black, formless entity now directly in front of him.

Sena pressed a hand against his cheek and found that the bandage had been torn off. His scrape had scabbed over, almost healed. He scratched at his cheek. Sticky blood glossed his fingers. Sena closed his eyes and concentrated. 

_(“It seems like you performed an inadvertent blood summoning.”)_

“I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you even want to hear from me,” Sena whispered, gritting his teeth. The trickle of black dust paused. “But I need you, any of you…! Please help me! It’s going to kill me!” Sena rubbed at his injured cheek and then slathered the floor in front of him with blood.

Immediately, the pipes in the kitchen screamed as water rushed forth in the shape of a clawed hand, and pushed the black entity into a far wall.

Kakei stepped out from the kitchen, a small pool of water at his feet.

“The swim trunks…” Sena said as Kakei helped him sit up.

“I remembered,” Kakei said, a wry smile on his face. “I’m not sure how long I can hold him off. Go somewhere safe.”

Sena limped his way to the kitchen, where Seijuro had stowed away other exorcist items “just in case.” Like hell he’d let Kakei alone with that thing. Sena dialed Seijuro’s number again. He wasn’t going to leave Kakei fighting that thing by himself for long.

“Hey, um, uh, the thing. No idea… what it is, but it’s dangerous. Can you…?” Sena winced as he heard a crash from the other room. He turned to face the entrance as Kakei came tumbling in, followed by the entity.

“Alm… st there,” Seijuro said. His voice was laced with static, its pitch rising and falling. “Ten… min… tes.”

“I d-don’t know if we can last that long.” Sena stared wide-eyed as the dark entity tore at Kakei. “Uh, I summoned Kakei, maybe others? I’m not too sure how it worked, but this thing is… it’s evil… and strong… I-I have those supplies you left. What… what can I do?”

The entity lashed out with dark sand javelins that sliced through Kakei’s torrents of water. One of them pierced Kakei through the shoulder and slammed him onto the ground. Dark blue blood seeped from the wound. He stood up on shaky legs, just barely dodging another barrage.

“Can that thing kill him?” Sena whispered, unable to take his eyes off the battle. “Can Kakei die, oh my God–”

“Calm… wn,” Seijuro’s voice crackled through the phone, bringing Sena back into focus. “Not sure… the thing… grind the coal from… nder… sink…”

Sena rummaged under the sink as quickly as his injuries allowed until he found a mortar and pestle and a lump of coal in a drawstring bag. He started grinding the coal, shouldering his phone up to his ear. He kept a wary eye on Kakei. Every grunt and pained sound he made only spurned Sena faster. Seijuro was instructing him what to add: sage, and rock salt, and one of his hairs. He followed along, but then the phone cut off.

Suddenly, every electronic appliance screamed to life. The microwave, the fire alarm, his phone. Sena dropped it in shock, and almost fumbled the mortar in his hands.

Then the phone reconnected, but it wasn’t Seijuro’s voice on the line.

“That little powder is useless,” the voice hissed. It was the voice of the thing, barely audible over the din. “It won’t be much longer… Your bodyguard… He’s weak. You made him weak. But you’ll make me strong, oh yes… You’re quite young, quite lively, quite _comely_. I’ll suck you dry, and when you start to give out, you’ll bring me more treats.”

Sena fought the quiver in his hands and picked up his phone.

“Sena? Sena!” It was his mother’s voice. She sounded panicked. His thumb paused over the end call button. “Sena what’s going on?”

“M-mom?”

“Sena, what are you doing? Darling why are you trying to resist?”

“You’re not strong enough,” his dad’s voice chimed in, “you should just give in.”

Sena gaped at the phone in his hand.

“Did you think it would work?” Seijuro’s voice joined into the chorus. “Did you think I would try to help you after the way you acted?”

“I… I’m sorry I was… I don’t know why…”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sena’s mother said. Her voice was cold and empty now. “You’ve been ungrateful. You deserve what’s going to happen to you, don’t you?”

“I… No, I…”

He heard the wet sounds of a body being thrown against the wall but could only stare at his phone. Kakei groaned in pain. It barely registered to Sena. His whole body felt slack. Maybe he did deserve this…

“ _Leave my nightowl alone._ ”

The phone vibrated like it was about to explode. Dark particles streamed out from it like pressurized black steam. As suddenly as all the appliances had started blaring, they quieted in the same manner.

“ _Sena? Do you hear me?_ ”

Sena blinked. He felt like he was coming out of a stupor, just like at the restaurant earlier today. He shook his head. Akaba was talking to him.

“ _… break its hold over you. I managed to cast him out as best as I can, but it’ll be impossible to reconnect your call as long as it’s still here.”_

“I think I know what to do from here. I don’t know why I was acting so…”

“ _It doesn’t matter. Try to finish up as quickly as possible. I have to leave you now._ ”

“No!” But Akaba didn’t answer.

“Miss me?”

Sena looked up to see Akaba’s ghostly form. Sena thought that if things weren’t so crazy, he might have actually smiled.

“You didn’t really think I would leave at a time like this? I can only hold him off for a beat. I can already feel the summoning starting to weaken.”

“Thank you,” Sena said as Akaba left for the other room. He wouldn’t let the time go to waste any longer. He’d caught just enough off Seijuro’s words to know what do. He crushed the ashes of a burning incense stick into the mixture, then took the milled powder between his fingertips and blew it against the entrance of the kitchen.

He hobbled to the main entrance and sprinkled the powder at the door. He hadn’t been able to take in a solid breath this whole time, and his vision spotted when he moved too fast. Sweat beaded at his temples and slicked his hands. His ankle throbbed. But he wouldn’t let this chance slip away.

Before he could go on to the next room, black sand shot out from around the corner and coiled around Sena’s ankles. Another stream of black sand wrapped itself around Sena’s entire body like a boa constrictor, making him drop the ceramic bowl. It shattered on impact. The sand felt different than before. It felt like cement, locking him into place. Every time he moved, the sand only tightened.

A stream of water flowed near Sena’s feet. Kakei rose from it. He was bleeding heavily from his shoulder and chest. He had bruises covering his arms and legs.

“I’m going to try and get you out. Akaba’s distracting it.” Kakei used a lash of water to try and cut the bonds, but they remained firm. He wound a stream of water around the black sand, but the sand just absorbed the moisture and constricted Sena even further.

Sena gasped in pain.

“Sorry. It’s stronger than me,” Kakei admitted resentfully. “I’m getting weaker by the second. I can feel myself fading.”

“It’s… ahh, okay,” Sena said through ground teeth. The reality was that he was hardly able to take in a breath. The edges of his vision were black. He closed his eyes to ignore it.

“Others are coming soon, but I… I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Sena felt something cold and wet on his cheek. He couldn’t tell if it was a tear or a kiss.

The black sand tightened further around Sena, and then, it _pulled._ Sena couldn’t help but cry out as he sunk into the floorboards. Akaba materialized next to him. He looked even more faded, and Sena could barely hear his voice.

Akaba gripped along the black sand. His fingers were cold as they went through Sena, but they found purchase on the sand bonds. Akaba pulled, but it only managed to slow down the speed at which Sena was being dragged under. He was already shoulder deep, and Akaba was fading fast.

Akaba gritted his teeth, he pried, he scratched, he even bit the sand, but it was no use. His red eyes were glassy. He looked desperate. “I wish I could have done more, my nightowl,” Akaba said, and then winked out of existence.

The black entity emerged from where the sand had pooled in front of Sena. Its movements were slower now, less cocky. The thing shifted. Its amorphous head opened up to reveal a mouth; it shifted some more and opened its mouth to a set of yellow, dagger-like teeth, dripping with saliva.

“Ahh… now, I feast,” it said. It launched itself at Sena’s bare neck.

Sena flinched, but there was no pain. He snapped his eyes open.

Sena stared in shock as shadows struck through the entity. The thing reeled back, screeching in pain. The black sand’s grip slackened, and Sena took in a deep painful breath. From the closet door under the stairs, Sena saw a pair of furious golden eyes.

Takeru launched more attacks to keep the entity busy. He sliced through the weakened sand, and pulled Sena up, cradling Sena against his chest. Sena didn’t even flinch at how cold Takeru was. He realized that Takeru was panting.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Takeru said, out of breath. His wide narrow teeth were now all needle-like fangs. “I brought friends. Took forever finding them.”

Out stepped Sena’s grandparents.

“What…?”

“I’m going to keep the poltergeist busy while she explains things,” Takeru pointed a thumb at Sena’s grandmother. He laid Sena gently on the ground, brushed his fingertips across Sena’s forehead.

“You’re too weak… much too weak…” the entity mocked.

“Is that a guarantee?” Takeru winked at Sena before charging in.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Sena heard his grandmother say. “Do you remember that, Koji?”

“I remember it fondly,” Sena’s grandfather added, good-naturedly, “Though I doubt I was that reckless, Matsu.”

Sena could hardly believe what he was seeing. His grandparent’s kept changing age… or rather, they were every age at once. The elderly couple Sena most clearly remembered, Matsu in a Victorian era black dress and Koji in fishing clothes and slippers; changing to a pair of teenagers, Matsu pale faced and smeared in black eye-makeup while Koji wore jeans and a white t-shirt, hair slicked back; morphing to their middle-aged selves, she looked like some vampiric seductress and he in a plain suit; changing then to children, Matsu like a ghost child with her long dark hair and white dress and Koji – just an average kid, Pokémon shirt and skinned knees. Every stage was morphing from one form to another, and if Sena stared enough, he thought he could see every version at the same time, though it hurt his already muddled head.

“How are you doing, my boy?” Matsu asked, flitting to a different age, early twenties. “You ready for an exorcism?”

“He’s pretty injured, dear. I don’t think he can quite respond. That monster really did a number on him.”

“Blasted thing,” Matsu rolled up the sleeve of her black Lolita dress and spit to the side. “I’ll teach it who’s boss! This thing’s no match for me. You know how long I’ve been reading up about this?”

“Yes, dear – oh? Something powerful is coming,” Koji turned towards the front door. Sena managed to turn his head as the front door opened.

It was Seijuro, and Sena had never been happier in life. His suit was torn, his face smudged with dirt. Purple bruises mottled his jaw. The edges of his overcoat were even burned slightly. Seijuro’s eyes danced around the room, processing everything in a split second.

“My apologies. The entity – the poltergeist, I believe it is – interfered.”

“Oh,” Matsu said in a tone Sena was highly suspicious of. “Are you the gentleman that has been keeping Sena safe?”

Seijuro’s eyes darted towards Sena’s prone form. “I’ve tried.”

“Hmph. Some efforts. Well, make it up to me by helping seal this thing, or I’ll never forgive you and make _sure_ Sena falls in love with that young Takeru over there. He’s a _very_ charming fellow. _Very_ capable. You know, Sena, are you _sure…_?”

“The… the thing,” Sena murmured. Even in life and death situations, his grandmother was still too much.

“Dear,” Koji said gently.

“Oh, yes.” She rubbed her hands together. “Right then!”

Sena rested against Seijuro’s lap while Matsu stood in between Koji and Takeru. Takeru had enclosed them in a shadowy circle while he struck distracting blows at the poltergeist. Matsu held a necklace as she chanted into each bead. Koji was humming with a patient, strong energy. He clasped both hands together and closed his eyes.

The poltergeist in front of them had recouped its strength somewhat, and while it dodged every blow, it couldn’t get any nearer. Every time its dust trails edged too close to Takeru’s circle, the black shadows would lash out, incinerating the offending strike.

“Four more meals,” it muttered, almost as if reassuring itself. It sounded scared, Sena thought. Worried. “The little thing brought me four morsels, yes… exactly as planned… Just kill the shadow walker, and the rest are defenseless.”

“Gentleman that currently holds Sena’s affections,” Matsu said, “No, not you Takeru! You! Seijuro, do you know a sealing spell?” (If Sena had enough strength, he would have wanted to bury his face in his hands. The best he could do was turn red.)

“Yes, ma’am.” Seijuro took out a copper flask with a cork stopper and placed them on the ground. One hand hovered over the flask while he chanted, while the other hand cradled Sena’s face gently in place.

Matsu’s beads glowed with a light so bright, Sena couldn’t look directly at them. There was a soft breeze picking up strength, and it took Sena a moment to realize it was his grandfather’s doing. His serene face was marred only by a slight crease in his eyebrow as he concentrated; his clothes started floating in the air.

On an invisible signal, Takeru struck at the poltergeist with intent, a black pillar of shadow striking abruptly. The poltergeist was caught off guard, and the pillar pierced it, slowing it down. A stream of black sand launched weakly at Takeru’s neck, but Takeru snapped it in half using his fanged mouth. He looped a thick shadow coil around the trapped poltergeist and pulled it forward. The entity kept trying to melt away, but Sena realized that it was his grandfather keeping it in place. He wasn’t controlling the wind, but shifting the gravity in their favor.

The poltergeist was right in front of Sena’s grandmother.

“You were a fool to think you could hurt my dear grandson,” Matsu said. She placed the glowing necklace around the poltergeist’s neck. It screeched in agony. It sounded raw and inhuman. Seijuro covered Sena’s ears with his hands. “Foolish indeed.”

Black lashes of sand attacked them again in desperation, but Takeru’s barrier held. It kept trying to phase out, to escape, but the power was absolute, and it was helpless. The poltergeist moaned in pain one last time, a guttural, ugly sound, before it disintegrated. A black, amorphous cloud flowed out of the sand that it had controlled, leaving it golden colored once more.

“With this, I seal you,” Seijuro commanded. The copper flask sucked in the dark cloud, and Seijuro added a handful of the powder Sena had milled, and pressed the cork stopper firmly in place.

Takeru collapsed on his back, exhausted. All his shadows snapped back to him quickly. His arms twitched. “That was one hell of a beast,” he said between gasps. “I…”

Takeru caught Seijuro and Sena’s compromising position. His teeth were losing their points as he settled into himself once more.

“I’ve been known to be a bit of a sore loser. Wish I had more time, but the summoning is running out. You know… I hate to see you go, but I love watching you leave.”

Sena smiled despite himself. Takeru gave him a tired grin, before he turned into a shadow and retreated into the darkness.

Matsu crossed her arms. She looked like a petulant child. “I thought you were supposed to renovate my house, not tear it apart!”

She had a point. The stairs, walls, and flooring were splintered in several places. There was water damage that Kakei had inadvertently left. Not to mention all the sand that had stayed behind that poltergeist.

“Dear, please,” Koji said. “Is that really how you want this to go?”

“No, Grandpa,” Sena winced, from pain or guilt was hard to tell, “Grandma’s right. I was supposed to take care of this house… I’m sorry… I…” Sena felt Seijuro wipe at his cheeks. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

“Oh, honey,” Matsu said. She kneeled next to Sena, took his hand in hers. It felt like a cool sea breeze. Koji kneeled, too, ruffling at Sena’s hair. “Sena… I got to see my parents again after thirty years… and all my friends…”

“And the fish are always biting,” Koji added. He was wearing his fishing hat, with the shrunken head tackle. “Don’t mourn us anymore, my boy, there’s no need.”

“There was never a need, truth be told.” Matsu plucked the shrunken head tackle from her husband’s hat. She rubbed the forehead, and Koji kissed its cheek. They placed it next to the copper flask. “For good luck. You’ll always have a bit of us with you now.”

“And we’ll be keeping an eye on this place to limit unwanted visitors,” Koji added.

The last thing Sena heard of them, was their loving bickering as they faded away.

“I do hope that Seijuro will take care of him.”

“Darling, give the young man more credit. He’s very powerful. That sealing technique…”

“Yes it was good. But if he’s so powerful, how did my dear grandson get injured! Now that Takeru on the other hand!”

“You can’t just cherry pick all those suitors. Obviously he’ll find his own!”

“Well, like father like son like grandson.”

And then Seijuro and Sena were left alone.

As was starting to become a concerning routine, Seijuro drove Sena to the emergency room. Seijuro’s car was badly dented and all the windows were shattered. Seijuro offered no more explanation other than the poltergeist had interfered.

Sena lay in the back seat, propped up against the inside of the door while Seijuro avoided potholes. From time to time, Seijuro’s concerned eyes would fill the rearview mirror. It was nearing midnight, and they had a long trip ahead of them. But that was a good thing, Sena decided as he rolled the shrunken head between his hands. He needed to say some things.

“Um… Seijuro…”

“Save your energy. We can talk later.”

“No, I need to apologize… you know, at dinner…” Sena’s headache made itself present again in stabbing pulses.

“It was the poltergeist.”

“It made me act… I’m not… I really had… I mean, I like you. A lot.”

“I know,” Seijuro said. Sena almost fell out of the seat. Seijuro’s cheeks were uplifted. He was smiling. “I believe your grandparent’s house sits on a supernatural node. It acts almost like a gate. I presume the combined force of your… previous roommates was able to keep the poltergeist from trespassing, but with the sudden vacuum of supernatural occupants, it was able to come in and affect you. Poltergeists live off of negative energy, and they’re known to cause it to continue feeding.”

“It made me say s-such awful things. Like with the diet thing? I admire your body – er, I mean! How careful you are with your body, um.” Seijuro was smiling again. “I… I am still suffering from a concussion,” Sena tried to defend himself. “And blood deprivation to my brain.”

“You should rest,” Seijuro said again, serious. “I’m surprised you’re still coherent after what it did to you. You’ve also expended a decent amount of energy summoning five supernatural beings. Your summoning method was… rough, but it performed the job. You did a commendable job.”

“I didn’t know if it’d work… they all went away so quickly, not like the first time.”

“Summoning pacts are like that. The more intense the summoning, the more power you give to the beings you summon, but the quicker the summoning expires. Do you recall what powers Kakei, Akaba, and Takeru had when you first met them?”

“They weren’t anything like tonight.”

“Exactly. Now rest. We can talk more about tonight later, after you’ve seen medical professionals.”

Sena blinked. He was exhausted but not sleepy. Too much adrenaline, too many racing questions, too many aches, and he’d never been able to fall asleep on long car rides anyway. He was glad to have seen Akaba and Kakei and Takeru again. He’d missed them. There was probably a way to communicate with them again, at least to tell them thank you, and that he wasn’t dead. Although Takeru probably already told the other two that they’d won. He’d ask Seijuro about that later.

Sena’s grandmother’s words echoed in his mind. _Like father like son like grandson_. Sena didn’t have to be a genius to know what that meant. Sena’s mother hadn’t been as occult obsessed as his grandmother, but she was still a bit… odder than the average person, and Sena’s father loved her dearly. Sena’s eyes trailed back to Seijuro, Paranormal Investigator. Maybe it ran in the family. Sena figured, that while he still had a concussion as an excuse, he’d try to get away with saying bold things.

“Um, Seijuro? How’s business in the city?”

“Abundant. A more concentrated population draws with it a higher concentration of the supernatural.”

“Oh… And… around Enma University?”

If Seijuro was surprised, he didn’t show it. His cheeks lifted up again. “There’s plenty of work in that area. I’ll be frequenting it often, in fact.”

“Mm, is that so? Maybe, um… maybe… you should find a place to live there, then.”

Seijuro’s eyes filled the rearview mirror again. “You have a concussion,” he accused. There was no heat to his words, though. He sounded… smitten.

“Yes, but… I’d suggest the same thing without one.”

“Rest up,” Seijuro said after a beat. He turned on the radio. It was a love song. He drummed his thumb against the steering wheel with the beat. He was still smiling.

Sena was excellent at reading in between the lines. He leaned back against the car door, satisfied for now, and watched the scenery fly past under the veil of the moon.


End file.
